


In a Hologram (With You)

by DoreyG



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Community: trope_bingo, Complicated Relationships, F/F, F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Poor Jim, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a war coming. She can smell it in the streets, taste it upon the air, <i>see</i> it in the eyes of every piece of scum she encounters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Hologram (With You)

He doesn’t realize that Nemi’s settled until several weeks after his parents have died, until after they’ve been lowered into the ground and he’s been left alone with only Alfred and his pain for company.

She buts her silky head into his hand, stares up at him patiently. Her fur is as dark as the night, her muscles are tense beneath his fingertips and her fangs are ever so sharp whenever they emerge from within her mouth. She’s beautiful, in the same way that a flame or a blade is beautiful. She’s terrifying, in the same way that his nightmares and his memories are terrifying. She’s…

“Bruce.”

She’s _ready_.

“It’s up to us now.”

And he’s ready too.

 

\--

 

Mia always used to burst into rasping laughter whenever the subject of them ever having children came up. They were nice enough to have around for a day or two, she always reminded him with a cheerful yap and a wag of her tail, nice enough to know when you could be the ‘fun uncle’ figure and shower them with treats and fondness and all kinds of fun that the parents would inevitably tut at – but beyond that? No, _no_. They’d become scabby little things, clinging and sticky and constantly weeping, and _they’d_ be bored within seconds. And then where would they be? 

Nah, not worth thinking about. Better to be a childless bachelor, a man living the life of riley, than a poor sod trapped by a responsibility that there was absolutely no way out of. So what if they were lonely sometimes, so what if they’d lacked purpose ever since they left the secret service? Better lonely than trapped, better to be lacking a bit of purpose than looking inevitable doom straight in the face.

And then his employers, the poor Waynes with their innocent morals, were murdered. Shot down in the street, right in front of their son.

She stopped laughing after that.

 

\--

 

Osirus considers himself far too good for street living. He’s thought this ever since he could actually think, of course, but ever since he actually bothered to settle – as a sleek black cat with scornful eyes – it’s been basically non-stop. I’m too good for this, Selina. I deserve proper food, Selina. Where did you even _get_ the idea of giving a cat _milk_ , Selina. We should get the cushiest apartment possible, Selina. Selina Selina _Selina_.

“I told you,” she snaps one day, one hungry and cold day when he’s two minutes into one of his rants and she’s starving and freezing and wants her mother so badly that it’s an ache under her skin, “I’m called Cat now. Not Selina, _Cat_.”

He stares at her for a long moment, eyes heavy-lidded and tail contemptuously swishing, before letting out a low snort and carrying on.

It’s starting to get _obnoxious_.

 

\--

 

She’s pretty sure that nobody actually knows that Liv is her daemon. Falcone, unfortunately. Cobblepot, formerly, thanks to his cassowary daemon’s far too sharp eyes. But apart from those two outliers, one dismissed and one on his way out, nobody and _no one_ is aware that the blue butterfly pin she permanently wears on the side of her head is anything more than a particularly stylish piece of jewellery.

And that, at the risk of her truly unholy wrath, is how it’s gonna _remain_.

(Sometimes she sits in her club, on her own, and allows Liv – “Livitus,” he whispers in softly reprimanding tones – to settle on her palm. She sits on her own, and stares into space, and _thinks_ … And slowly smirks, a show that has Liv fluttering in amusement no matter how much he claims to disapprove.

Things are going her way.

_Nothing_ is gonna stop her now.)

 

\--

 

Rusdendron always liked to stay small. He saw what happened to her mother and her daemon, constantly grabbed and pinched at by the cruel fingers of her father and the cruel beak of _his_ daemon, and _learned_ \- tailored himself untouchable, unnoticeable, tiny enough to wait unseen just beneath the collar of her shirt or just under the heavy fall of her hair.

She barely noticed, when he settled the day after her father was shot and his screeching daemon dissolved into gold dust. She only blinked, when he showed his small transparent body and eight long legs. Nodded. Allowed his small, final form to scuttle neatly over her fingertips…

And smiled a little, went back to her plant with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

No man, with grasping hands and stupid eyes, would ever be able to get to them now. That was enough for her, that was _more_ than enough.

 

\--

 

There’s a war coming. She can smell it in the streets, taste it upon the air, _see_ it in the eyes of every piece of scum she encounters. The world is shifting around them, becoming more dangerous every single day. And soon, very soon indeed, they’re all going to have to choose just which side they’re on.

“Dramatic,” Brenn chuckles in her ear, balancing on her shoulders like some sort of acrobat – some sort of uncaring thing who can simply flip himself out of any danger he may face, who can simply _ignore_ the war brewing around him like it’s easy, “I thought you were a cop, Amorcita, not a soldier. Honestly, what would mama say?”

Mama would say a lot of things, probably.

(Barbara, _Barbara_ , would say a lot more with a small smile playing around her lips and Narcarius fluttering around her hair like some glorious ornament.)

She ignores him, ignores _all_ of them with their looks and disapproval and secret smiles. A war is coming, devastating and bloody, and she intends to be on the right side of it. No _matter_ what anybody else may think.

 

\--

 

He thinks that Phix settled on _that_ day. You know, _that_ day. When he won the riddling contest – fair and square! (Largely) – and his father reacted in a way that was… Less than pleasant, in several ways at once. He’s not sure, of course, he’s never _sure_ \- but he can’t recall her taking a different form after that day, and so it seems _highly_ likely!

He likes things that are highly likely. Always has, always will.

(He _hates_ , sometimes, that the proud settling of his daemon was entirely due to _that man_. He sits in his threadbare apartment, and thinks upon it, and _hates_ it with all his heart. The man had to get his filthy fingers into every aspect of his life, of course. The man had to ruin everything he ever touched, of course. The man had to _exist_ -

That is, of course, usually the point at which Phix nips his ankle and glares up at him until he stops being so… Melodramatic, for lack of a better word. He can recover then, smile again, pick up another crossword book and tut at their appalling grammar. He’s got it under control. He knows what he’s doing. He’s perfectly calm.

Of _course_.)

 

\--

 

He loves Harlette with all his heart, he honestly _does_ , but sometimes she’s a little too _smart_ for her own damn good.

“He’s not that bad,” she chirps, of _Gordon_ on his first disastrous day on the job – capers around his shoulders and nips at his ears like he’s actually supposed to _listen_ to her, instead of getting a stiff drink and blocking everything out, “I could grow to like that kid, you know.”

“This isn’t right,” she continues anxiously, relating to bloody Cobblepot’s immanent death as he’s marched down the pier – trotting around his ankles and scratching at his shoes like he’s supposed to _pay attention_ , as opposed to watching Gordon get the damned job done and dragging him out for a supportive drink afterwards, “I know we’ve had to kill before, Harv, but…”

“You don’t want to do this anymore,” she finishes in a whisper, _to_ him as he lies in bed at night – coiling on his chest and obstructing his breathing like he’s actually supposed to be interested anymore, to break his damned heart over and over again without a care in the world, “you’re good deep down, you know. You could be so much more than this, you _know_.”

…Far too smart for her own good. He turns over and tries to block her out.

 

\--

 

Elle settled on the day his father died, a sudden shock of grief that sent her permanent in a way that he’d really needed at that point. She became a dog, of course. A west highland white terrier, to be exact – cuddly, and smart, and determined, and so brave that it still sometimes takes his breath away.

She growls when she senses danger, loud and true.

(She growled all the way into Gotham, to the point where Barbara started making faces and even she looked confused by her verve.

…She made a confused noise, half growl and half yielding whimper, when she first saw Oswald with Forsteriese lurking behind him with sharp beak and cunning eyes. And he thought back to the unambiguous growl, and longed desperately for its return.)

 

\--

 

Terese, Forsteriese as she insists upon when they’re not alone, is the only creature that he truly trusts in Gotham. She’s smart, sleek, eternally _calm_ with her liquid black eyes that see absolutely everything. She knows what has to be done, and reminds him of such whenever he dares to forget. She remembers what the prize is, and would do _anything_ to claim it for her own.

(“Pretty,” she remarked, low in his ear, the first time they came across Gordon with the indomitable Themaelle sitting defensively at his heel, “but not the main goal. Keep your eyes on the goal, Oswald, keep your eyes on the _goal_.”)

A war is coming to Gotham, seeping through the streets in a way that makes dog daemons howl and cat daemons arch their backs and flee. It will be bloody, it will be dark, it will be neverending like a bullet to the chest. And there’s nobody else, not even Gordon with his ever so tempting eyes and strong back that would _break_ under his grip, that he’d rather have by his side.

 

\--

 

His destiny is coming, Apophicia told him so on the day she settled. It was on a Monday, or maybe a Tuesday. Or, ooh, a _Thursday_. He’s always liked Thursdays, such lovely and deeply shining days. His father, or maybe it was _mother dearest_ , hated them. Considered them long, boring, annoying in a way that crept under the skin and rattled around the bones. That, surprise of all surprises, only made him like them _more_.

“But I settled on a _Friday_ ,” Apophicia tweets, flying around his face – pecking at him with a sharp beak and _joyously_ insane eyes, “a Saturday, bright and cheerful and sunny. Do you remember how mother, or maybe it was _uncle_ , used to _loathe_ Sundays. Dull dull _dull_ , she used to scream, dull dull _dull_ , until she blew her brains out like a _dream_ -“

His destiny is coming, and he can feel it every time he closes his eyes and listens to the meaty _thud_ of his heart. A _nemesis_ has been born, and his path has been suddenly set so firmly that it’s like a statue – a work of art, beckoning him on with certain hands.

“Great grandmother.”

They’re ready.

“Sweet _sister_ -dear.”

_Ready_.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'Fusion' square on my Trope_Bingo, using a His Dark Materials/Daemon fusion with Gotham.
> 
> Some notes on the daemons I chose, just so it's all clear!:
> 
> Bruce - recently settled as a black leopard/panther (http://www.robertwinslowphoto.com/Animals/African-and-Asian-Animals-1/Leopards-Black-Leopard/i-FVFm94Z/A). Goes by the name of Nemidicia, or Nemi to those she actually likes. Will eventually be able to move separately of Bruce, but hasn't quite managed it yet.  
> Alfred - A Dhole (http://proudtohave.weebly.com/dhole.html), known as Clemiare or Mia.  
> Selina/Cat - A black cat, of bloody course, called Osirus. A cue largely taken from the Animated Series, I will admit.  
> Fish - A Blue Morpho Butterfly (http://www.webexhibits.org/causesofcolor/images/content/blueMorphoZ.jpg), known as Liv to her and Livitus to himself. I chose a butterfly for her because there are a HELL of a lot of pretty butterfly ornaments for ladies, and so he'd be quite easy to hide. Also because butterflys are apparently assholes, who knew?  
> Ivy - A tiny Spinybacked Orbweaver Spider (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f7/Gasteracantha_cancriformis_2.jpg), who goes by Rusdendron and NOTHING ELSE. At some point later in life a mark will fondly call him Russ in an absent moment, that mark does not last for long after that.  
> Montoya - A Slender Mongoose (http://www.worldwildlifeimages.com/mammals/d/28172-7/Herpestes+sanguineus+_Slender+Mongoose__3247+_c_+Greg+and+Yvonne+Dean+_WorldWildlifeImages_com_.JPG), technically called Brenngaron but always referred to as Brenn.  
> Barbara - A Hummingbird Hawk Moth (http://www.glaucus.org.uk/Hawk-Moth160.jpg), named Narcarius.  
> Nygma - A Red Fox who allows Eddie to call her Phix, and nobody else to address her.  
> Harvey - A Stoat named Harlette, after a combination of several old movie actresses.  
> Jim - A West Highland White Terrier, known by Elle or Themaelle depending on how much she actually trusts the other people involved.  
> Oswald - A Cassowary (http://www.amazingaustralia.com.au/animals/pictures/cassowary-attack-2.jpg) called Forsteriese, or Terese when her and Oswald are alone. I did debate giving him a penguin, of course, but after lengthy consideration dedicated that penguins are just too darn nice.  
> The Joker - A Steller's Jay (https://c2.staticflickr.com/6/5170/5265774429_2676db3d95_z.jpg) who goes by Apophicia. Can already move separately of him, is generally as vicious as hell.


End file.
